


Right? Right.

by Thorinsmut



Series: Junkers [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Complete, Cuddling, Junkrat's brain is a chaotic place, M/M, Mentions of Underage, One Shot, Rimming, Smut, and I do mean filthy as in dirty, bottom!roadhog, filthy smut of the apocalypse trash children, mentions of drug use, mentions of mortality, no longer canon compliant, set in the Outback before the international crime spree gets started, this was written well before the junkertown map/animated short came out, with some self-destructive tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one thing Junkrat knows, it's that getting crush-fucked by Roadhog is the best feeling in the whole world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right? Right.

Junkrat was not a small man.

Not small. Two meters tall, if he stood up straight – cracked his spine and pushed back his shoulders and stretched out his neck and then got his flesh leg to straighten out all the way. That one was always the killer, fucking tendons along the back of it always tightening up. Straightening it out hurt. But _then_. THEN. Boom. Taller than average. Devilishly handsome, even when on fire. Especially when on fire. Brilliant – at bombs and explosions and general mayhem. Honestly the best things to be brilliant at. Who needed anything else, right? Right? Right? Right.

But the point. The _point_ was that Junkrat wasn't small. Not even a little. Scrawny, sure! Sure he was. Scrawny. Good for running away fast, that's what he said. Hard to put any weight on those bones when it's all running and bombing and running some more. Good times. Good times. Never could sit still. Who wants to sit still? Nobody. Boring. Terrible idea. The boredom will kill you faster than anything else, right? Even radiation. Nothing deadlier than boredom. Junkrat was liable to blow his scrawny self up just to feel something different when he got bored. The _rest_ of his scrawny self up. Ha!

Scrawny. Yep. Junkrat was scrawny as a starved dingo, but dicks didn't care about that right? Dick size was mostly just about height. Dicks didn't get fat or skinny. Didn't care if you hunched. Dicks didn't grow muscles. Hah. Could you picture that? Like, a dick lifting weights? With. Haha. With rippling muscles and shit.

So Junkrat was bigger than average. Bigger than everyone he'd been ever been with since he got his full height on him.

Everyone but Roadhog.

'Cause Roadhog fucking didn't _make sense_ , right? Like sometimes Junkrat had to wonder if he'd dreamed him up. Radiation in his brain. Or some bad drink. Or some really _good_ drink, right? Ah, tripping. Good times. But if Junkrat cracked his back and stretched out his leg and everything, he still only got up to the top of Roadhog's shoulder. And that was just _up_. Roadhog was just bigger everywhere. His fucking hands were bigger than Junkrat's whole torso. Like he could rest one in the middle of Junkrat's chest and pin him to the ground with it. Two of those big fingers under his arms, and two of them bracketing Junkrat's neck. Roadhog could squeeze and snap Junkrat's head off.

"Head off. Pop! Like a bottle cap. Ahahahaha!"

Oh. That bit had come out aloud, and Roadhog pushed down with the palm on Junkrat's chest. Hard enough his ribs creaked. Hard enough to push all the air out of him and Junkrat's head spun. He squirmed beneath the pinning weight, bucked his hips to fuck harder into Roadhog. God Roadhog felt good. Too damn good. He moved slow and steady on top of Junkrat, rode himself up and down on Junkrat's dick. His thighs were huge around Junkrat's torso. The weight of his body settling on Junkrat's hips at the bottom of every stroke ground him into the rocks and dirt through the thin bedroll they were fucking on. Junkrat was going to have bruises along the back of his hip bones after this. He always did.

Roadhog's other hand. The one that wasn't squeezing the life out of Junkrat and making spots dance in front of his eyes and going to leave bruises along his ribs? It was stroking Roadhog's dick in time with his rise and fall. He was slow. So damn _slow_. Like he was going to fuck all night. Well Junkrat couldn't fucking _do_ that, all right? He couldn't. He was going to fucking die or explode. Or die _and_ explode. Croak, boom! Hahaha. Best joke ever. Thought they won but your fucking corpse took them down. Take as much company as possible with you to hell, right?

Haha if Roadhog crushed him all the way to death right now they could go together, still fucking.

Junkrat gasped a huge breath when the pressure let up on his chest, laughing at the thought. "Give the devil an eyeful!" he gasped, and Roadhog was pushing down on him again. Junkrat whined with the last of the air leaving his chest, clawing at the hand pinning him with his nails and jackhammering up into Roadhog as hard as possible. God it was so _good_. Fucking Roadhog was the best thing ever. Like, sucking Roadhog's cock was great, and riding on one of his fingers. Or both at the same time. Fucking awesome. But getting pinned down and ridden was the best.

They'd done it the other way around too, but it just took so long, right? Took a whole bottle of lube and like a whole hour to get Junkrat open enough to take that monster cock without rupturing something. See, it looked proportionate in Roadhog's hand, and that hand was huge. Massive. Taking it hurt so damn _good_ and left Junkrat limping for a whole day after. Heh. Limping more than normal. So they didn't do that often. Only when they had lots of lube to spare and lots of time and lots of safety so Junkrat wasn't having to run and fight while he felt like the whole damn world was trying to fall out of his ass. Junkrat was bigger than most, and Roadhog obviously needed big partners so he didn't just fucking kill them (or so he could even feel anything when they were fucking him), but even Junkrat couldn't take Roadhog so easily. So they'd only done that a couple times, when they were both in the particular mood.

Fucking Roadhog was so much easier. Didn't take nearly as much lube and not all that much time. Didn't hurt him neither. Junkrat just licked him open nice and messy – Roadhog always used some of their precious water on a cloth to wipe down between his legs first because he was _considerate_ – and Junkrat buried his face in that big squishy ass and went to town. Ate his ass out until Roadhog decided he'd had enough of that. Never because Junkrat got tired of it. He'd never get tired of it, of having Roadhog spread out on his belly, deep voice laughing and groaning into the muffling sound of his mask. That never got boring.

When Roadhog decided he'd had enough of that, Junkrat slicked his dick with just a little lube – or whatever they'd found that worked as lube that month – and then bam! Here he was, getting crush-fucked. Best feeling in the world. Like nice big poppers going off in his skull before the pressure let up and he was gasping in another breath of air. The rush of oxygen into his body was the best feeling in the world. Good as bombs.

"Best. Best thing in the whole world. The _best_."

Roadhog pushed down again, forcing Junkrat to breathe out. Like being in an iron lung, right? So even if Junkrat died of how good it all felt he was still going to keep breathing. Still keep squirming helplessly under Roadhog. When he could. When the weight pinning him down wasn't too much for him to move at all. It felt like if Roadhog settled _all_ of his weight down on Junkrat's hips his pelvis would be crushed into dust, and Junkrat couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Didn't want to.

Nowhere in the world was better than crushed into the ground and used for Roadhog's pleasure. Roadhog rode Junkrat's dick slow and hard, muffled groans echoing out through his mask like thunder. Like explosions rolling over the desert from a distance, and it never failed to send fire shooting through Junkrat's nervous system. The most reliable fuse in the world. Roadhog was sweating, hog tattoo on his belly all shiny as it rose and fell in front of Junkrat. His thighs were wet with it, and their bodies squelched together as Roadhog rose and fell and Junkrat squirmed and fucked into him.

Roadhog's ass was just perfect, right? It was big and soft, but strong too. Roadhog was so strong. And being inside him, that was _really_ perfect. It was tight and hot and felt like it was endless. Like Junkrat could go in and in and in forever. Crawl right inside him to turn him inside out. Junkrat was big but Roadhog could take him easily. Could take so much more than him. He could take Junkrat's whole hand probably. Junkrat hadn't done _that_ since he had much smaller hands. And two of them. That took a lot of time, though. He'd probably get bored halfway through and blow something up just to change the scenery.

How much of his arm could he fit into Roadhog anyway, though? Or! Hahaha! Or he could fuck him with the stump. Its nerves were all jumpy, weird swirls of oversensitive and dead next to and layered on top of each other. What would it feel like to push it into the silky-softness of Roadhog's ass, feel him clench around it. Not boring!

Oxygen sizzled in Junkrat's brain.

"Wanna fuck you with my arm stump," he gasped out, hitting Roadhog's arm with it.

"The fuck is wrong with you," Roadhog snarled behind his mask, hand clenching hard around Junkrat's chest like he could crack his ribs in the grip of his hand. He pressed Junkrat down harder than ever. So that was a no, then. Ah well. Didn't matter anyway. Roadhog was speeding up now. Fucking _finally_. He was bouncing up and own on Junkrat's dick, belly heaving with his gasps and growls. The hand that reached around his belly to his dick moved faster, jacking himself off hard as he used Junkrat's body hard.

Roadhog's weight hurt, right? It hurt to have that much weight slamming Junkrat's skinny hips into the ground. Hurt fucking _good_. Spots swirled in Junkrat's eyes, mouth wide open like that could get air into his burning lungs. Hahaha. It was hopeless. His bones were thermite and he was going to ignite. Yeah he was gonna. Gonna. Gonna.

Roadhog's ass clenched down hard, grinding down on Junkrat's dick like he could grind Junkrat's bones into powder, snarling a low deadly laugh in his throat, and the hot splash of his come shot across Junkrat's belly. Junkrat bucked under him, trying both to get off and get the weight off his chest to _breathe_. Desperate. That edge of fear. That this was the time Roadhog forgot to care if Junkrat survived fucking him. That Roadhog pushed him too far and he'd never take a breath again. Ahaha, die happy and fighting.

Oxygen hit Junkrat's lungs, as euphoric as a shot of nitrous. He squealed a long cackling laugh as his one remaining nut shot off into Roadhog – making up in enthusiasm what it lacked in company. Two nuts was just unnecessary, really. One was easier for someone to fit into their mouth anyway, right? Right? Ha! Not that Roadhog had ever used his mouth on anything of Junkrat's. He always kept his mask on, and it had been a while since Junkrat had the chance to be with anyone else.

Didn't need it, anyway.

There was a moment of quiet when they were both done. Junkrat was flying, somewhere beyond the radiation clouds and dust and into the stars. Roadhog's chest was heaving, his breath huffing out hard through his mask. Then he climbed off of Junkrat and patted his chest, surprisingly gentle, and Junkrat's whole body arched up into it. His throat even made a kind of purring sound, all on its own.

Roadhog chuckled softly. He traced one warm thick fingertip along Junkrat's collarbone, back and forth. Why did that feel so good?

"Fucking you's gotta be some kind of drug. Best drug in the whole world, mate."

Roadhog pet the side of Junkrat's face, gently caught his chin between his fingers to shake his head. Junkrat let him, his muscles all loose and floppy. "Ridiculous," he rumbled, and pressed his thumb to Junkrat's bottom lip. Almost like a kiss. Kinda.

Junkrat's whole body shuddered, and he couldn't even pretend it was because the desert night was cold. Even though it _was_ cold. The sweat and come Roadhog had left on him were starting to cool.

Roadhog heaved himself to his feet and wandered off behind a boulder to clean himself up.

Junkrat dipped his fingers into the come on his belly. He rubbed his hand all over it, spread it up his belly and chest. laughing. Hog juice, all over his body, hahaha. It mixed in with the dirt and soot that stained Junkrat's skin, leaving brand new patterns on him like decoration to go with the bruises that would be coming in before morning. It would dry up and flake off soon enough, or Junkrat would scrub off with a sand bath in a few days, but for the moment he'd keep it. Mix Roadhog's scent into his own scent of dried sweat and bombs. The two of them were mixed up together all over Junkrat's skin.

The thought sent a zip of electricity all the way down into Junkrat's toes. Even the ones he didn't have anymore. Haha. Weird. Junkrat wiggled the toes he _did_ have and hopped up to his feet to go take a leak on a half-dead bush in the opposite direction from where Roadhog had gone.

The strange lethargy after sex had faded, leaving Junkrat exhilarated and full of energy. He'd survived fucking Roadhog, yet again! The rush of that never got old! Junkrat threw his head back and howled like a dingo.

"We're wasted in the outback mate!" Junkrat said. Roadhog was settling his bulk down to sleep, setting his weapons and Junkrat's arm out beside him. All careful and everything in its place. Junkrat paced past him, back and forth through camp in his lurching stride that absolutely matched his lurching mind. "I'm telling you Roadie. We survived! We survived fucking _Australia_! We survived the apocalypse and _thrived_ off it! No one's tougher than us!" Junkrat waved his arm and his stump as he struggled into his pants. Shorts now. He'd burnt off the bottom half at some point. He couldn't make gestures big enough to encompass the size of his plans. How had he not told Roadhog his plans before? Maybe he had. Whatever. "What's there for us out here? Other mean bastards and, and, fucking _sand_ that's what. The suits are soft, off in their shiny cities. What do they know about fighting, huh? Nothing. Easy targets, and a whole world full of them! Blow 'em up and take their money! Every last one of them! Ahahahaha!"

It was _cold_. Why did the desert nights have to be so cold? Junkrat wrapped his arm and a half around himself as a breeze set goosebumps all over his body. He paced faster to get his temperature up. "Who in the world could stop us? Nobody. The outback can't kill us. The omnics can't kill us. All the bounty hunters in Junkertown can't kill us! You and me, mate. You and me. We're going out into the world. Take all their nice stuff for ourselves. Take out anyone who stands in our way. You hook 'em, and I'll cook em, right? Right? It's cold as _balls_ tonight I'm blowing something up."

Junkrat dove for his bomb stash. A good explosion always made things nice and toasty. Roadhog's hand closed around Junkrat's waist, jerking him away from all his beautiful bombs. He yowled and flailed, but Roadhog was completely unphased. He pulled Junkrat in to lay on his belly, as though Junkrat was a stuffie to cuddle instead of a very dangerous wanted man.

"Let go of me you overgrown bastard!" Junkrat snarled. He punched and kicked and he would have bit but then he realized that his face was smashed into Roadhog's tits and he didn't want to bite those... ok maybe he wanted to a _little_ , but only in a sexy kinda way. Roadhog smelled like sweat and gasoline and engine grease, and Junkrat rubbed his face all over Roadhog's chest. His skin was salty when Junkrat licked it. There was a nipple nearby and Junkrat made for it, wanting to feel it between his teeth, but Roadhog put his hand over Junkrat's head and shoulders to crush him in place and hold him still with a sigh.

Between his hand and his chest, all Junkrat could hear now was the steady thud of Roadhog's heart and the whooshing of his breath. Roadhog's belly was probably the best place in the world. Softest place in the whole outback at least, with the firmness of Roadhog's powerful muscles under it. And warm. Roadhog radiated warmth. Junkrat curled his legs in to get them more on Roadhog's belly. Nice and toasty.

"Fuck the Queen," Junkrat said. Not even sure it was even coming out aloud. He couldn't hear his own voice. "Fuck her and her whole fancy house."

"Buckingham Palace," Roadhog interjected, quiet rumble hardly more understandable than thunder the way Junkrat was listening to it rumble through his chest. The hand that had been restraining Junkrat on his back slid downward and Roadhog's fingers worked on getting Junkrat's prosthetic leg off. It would ache in the morning if he didn't take it off, so Junkrat let him.

He was safe here, right? Didn't have to have his foot and hand on all the time. His traps would alert them to anyone or anything trying to get into their camp. Junkrat hadn't been small in a very long time, he grew up fast and big, but he felt small with Roadhog. In a good way, though? Safe on Roadhog's belly, like a joey in its mama's pouch. Like everything was going to work out all right after all. Like Junkrat wasn't so irradiated cockroaches died when he pissed on them. Like he had all the time in the world.

" _Fuck_ the Queen," Junkrat restated. "She musta signed off on it right? Giving the outback to the damn omnics? 'Cause Australia's a crown... thingy. She must have done. What's she know about people like us, huh? Blow her whole house to rubble and steal the crown jewels. Who's the ruler then? Me! Us? First decree, blow up all the omnics. Boom! Ahahahaha!"

"Doesn't work that way," Roadhog said, tugging one of their ratty blankets over them both.

"Gonna do it anyway. Fuck 'em all."

Roadhog didn't answer that. The only sound in the whole world of Junkrat was the thud of his heart, strong and steady as clockwork. Was it as big as the rest of Roadhog? Must be to sustain him, right? Made Junkrat want to blow his ribcage like a bank vault and dig around in there to see what kind of hardware he was running. Only that would kill him, and Junkrat didn't want to do that. Didn't want to at all.

"You're my best mate. Best mate I ever had."

Oh. Maybe that bit had come out aloud, because Roadhog shushed him and moved a finger across Junkrat's mouth. Junkrat could have bit it. He licked it experimentally, it tasted like salt and engine grease too, and Junkrat pulled it into his mouth with his lips and tongue. He'd sucked dicks smaller.

"Wanna suck your dick tomorrow," Junkrat said. Or mostly said. Might have gotten garbled around the finger in his mouth. He couldn't hear to tell. "Ride on this thing while I do it. Mmm. Don't let me forget. Promise."

Roadhog pressed Junkrat's head harder into his chest, like he was considering smothering Junkrat to death in his tits. Should have felt dangerous. Didn't. His irradiated brain didn't know any self-preservation, or he'd never have gotten this far in life.

Junkrat let his eyes close, idly sucking on the finger in his mouth. Normally he couldn't stand to be still, but this wasn't so bad. For a couple hours he could nap with Roadhog, with the imperative of his long slow breaths making Junkrat's lungs keep time and pull his body toward sleep. He could sleep a couple hours.

Then he needed to build a new set of bombs. Could never have too many bombs on hands. Make sure all his traps were in working order and build new ones. Good things to have around, traps. Never have too many of those either, even if the biggest meanest enforcer in the outback was his bodyguard now. Roadhog was going to keep him safe and sound, right? Right?

Right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Comments are love. <3


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